


A Night in Otsuna

by jenskaya20



Category: Ghost of Tsushima (Video Game)
Genre: Demons, Folktales, Gen, Ghost of Tsushima, Horror, Legends, Mask, Possession, Supernatural - Freeform, Suspense, Thriller
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:08:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29508087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenskaya20/pseuds/jenskaya20
Summary: It's spring after the death of Khotun Khan. The Ghost is only a rumor, but he has not stopped fighting for his people. When he hears about people being burned to death in Otsuna forest, it's time to renew the hunt... perhaps this time it's more than he can handle...
Relationships: Predator and Prey - Relationship
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	A Night in Otsuna

_Three months after the defeat of Khotun Khan_

It was mid-April. The rain was coming down hard, and an insignificant ronin quickly rode into Ichi’s inn. The cold winter winds had been harsh, but there was nothing worse than the rain. It would be a relief to find a nice, dry place to relax and perhaps get a sip of sake.

The ronin was in all black and wore a worn straw hat. He didn’t take his hat off but preferred to be seated in the darkest corner of the main room, as far away from the fire as possible but within range of its warmth. He wasn’t the only guest in the Inn that night. It was the first time in months since the Mongols were completely driven out of Otsuna, and all the corpses of the slain buried in peace. Now people told stories around the fire while leek stew was simmering in the cast-iron pan.

“Thank Inari that we all made it out alive!” one peasant woman named Natsuko was more chatty than the others. “It’s time that we return back to where we started, to pick up the pieces of what’s left.”

“How can there be anything left?” muttered an older man named Kioshi. “Who has the energy to sow the new seeds of Spring, to begin again our fishing trips to the deep sea? I feel all of us have lost more than just belongings, we have lost our spirit.”

“Only if we let it! My family’s farm in Togo was completely destroyed, but the land is still fruitful. We will begin again, my brother and I. We were the only survivors in our homestead…”

“Those Mongols got what they deserved!” a younger woman spoke up. “I heard that the Ghost set fire to all those ships out at sea by Port Izumi! First lit on fire, and then an icy, watery grave for them. Good riddance!”

“I heard that Mongol survivors have joined with the bandits, and now are living off the land by prowling the roads. You’ll want to be careful when you go out at night,” Kioshi warned.

“You won’t have to worry about them. The Ghost will save us all! He did it once, he can get rid of those bandits too!” Natsuko insisted.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right… Did you ever see him?” Kioshi wondered.

“I haven’t, but I didn’t need to. There was a lady in Akashima who told me about the time he saved them from a Mongol attack, and everyone hid in the temple. There were screams and lots of smoke, but she saw the Ghost briefly! He used the smoke to hide himself, and he struck like a demon!”

“I can see why such a figure would be hunted down by the Jito. Who knows what the intentions of such a warrior really are? What if they’re just in it for themselves?”

“Not at all! It was well-planned, the people's lives were the priority! You know very well the Ghost was a samurai!”

“Was he? I never heard anything like that. I heard he was just a lucky peasant who stole some armor from Komoda Beach.”

“Enough talk about the war, I’d rather hear something more… _fanciful_ for once,” an unknown peasant in the corner yawned, drinking his 2nd jar of sake.

“You’re right,” Natsuko changed her tone. “I do know one tale which may brighten up the mood in here… or perhaps dampen it if you’re not much a fan of _scary stories_.”

“Nothing could be worse than Mongols,” Kioshi sighed.

“True. But sometimes there are spirits whose anger cannot be quenched with the sword. Tonight the moon has not yet risen… let me tell you about the Demon of Otsuna.”

“The Demon of Otsuna?” the ronin suddenly spoke up, startling the rest of the group.

“Yes, have you heard the tale?” Natsuko asked.

“I think my mother used to put me to bed with that one. I grew up not far from here. Something about a mask?”

“Oh yes, but don’t spoil it for the others!” Natsuko grinned. “Let me go back to the very beginning…

“Over 50 years ago, there was a merchant named Mitsuo Kodachi who lived in Otsuna and was quite wealthy and respected. From time to time he would receive unusual wares from people seeking to pawn them off. One day, an old man came to him, saying he needed food in exchange for an item. Mitsuo took pity on the man and asked to see it. The old man handed him a grotesque mask, the color of old bones, and a vicious grin on it. He said he found it in the forest, but knew nothing more about it. Mitsuo had never seen such a mask before, so he took it and gave the old man some rice and vegetables as a trade. Because of its devilish grin, Mitsuo hid it away for a time and forgot about it, when he started hearing whispers and jeers in the night. They often woke him up, causing him great distress, but his wife and children never heard the voices. It's only the wind, they told him. But one night he could bear to hear it no more and he followed the whispers to find them coming from the hidden mask. The whispers coerced him to put it on, and as soon as he did, a demon took possession of him! Mitsuo saw many terrifying visions, his wife and children slaughtered at his own hands, and his home burning. Not wanting it to come true, he ran away into the forest, and refused to see anyone, before the Demon had completely taken over him. They say the demon granted him unique physical strength, able to wield weapons much heavier than would be possible for a human, and his skin became impenetrable by sword and flame. Living in the forest alone, he completely lost his mind, and when his wife went in search for him, her body was later found with cuts made from a burning blade.

Perhaps Mitsuo lives to this day, granted with a cursed sort of immortality. Or perhaps the Demon has found a new host. But few have lived to see it and tell the tale! When a red moon rises, people go missing and are found later with burns and slashes all over them. No warriors have been able to hunt it down after all these years.”

“Why a red moon?” the young peasant woman asked warily.

“Because that was the night his wife went missing, his first victim. _When the moon turns red in Otsuna, beware, the night is cursed._ ”

“An interesting tale,” Kioshi stroked his chin, but not very fazed. “I’d like to know how the mask became possessed by a demon, but perhaps that’s been left to myth. I’m sure Mitsuo Kodachi is long dead, and probably disappearances happen out here regardless.”

“Have there been any disappearances of late?” the ronin asked quietly.

“There was a killing just 3 days ago, which is why I remembered to tell it tonight!” Natsuko turned to him. “A body covered in burns and cuts, just like the stories. It was the first time in _years_. An awful way to die, and I’m sure they died in terror. Earlier in the winter, a few others disappeared but we haven’t found them. No doubt the Demon took them too!”

“The Mongols used burning swords to cut down our people. I wouldn’t be surprised if this is the work of a survivor here in the Otsuna forest. I will look into it.”

“You will? Well, you are a bladesman, I can see that. But you better be careful! I don’t want to be blamed for your death by encouraging you to seek the Demon out!”

“I have faced much worse before,” the ronin sighed sadly. “Even people can be as terrible as demons, if given the opportunity.”

“Well said, ronin.”

With that, the group settled down, and once everyone had their share of the stew they all went to sleep. It was a peaceful night, the rain gently pattering the roof.

The ronin was grateful to spend the night in peace and comfort, but the rumor worried him. If there was a criminal out in the woods, they must be dealt with promptly. The next day he began his investigation, first asking Natsuko who the victim was. A woodcutter to the south, a half-hour’s journey by horse.

The ronin found the cabin that morning and met the remaining resident inside, the widow.

“My lord! How is it you’ve come out all this way just to speak to me?”

“I heard about your husband, I am sorry. I wish to track down the one who killed him, and give you justice.”

“That is rather honorable for a ronin… I guess you are expecting something in return, no?”

“Not this time. This is of great importance to me, beyond a reward. I will see your husband avenged, and this forest safe once more.”

“Very well. Stay with me, and I’ll give you help. It’s been very lonely here, and the company is comforting…”

The ronin and the widow spent the day at her cottage, and he helped out with chores while she gave the details: they had run out of fuel for their fire that night so her husband had gone out to cut some more. When he didn’t return, she looked for him the next morning only to find him a fair distance away, face down with burns and gashes all over. He was robbed of his goods as well.

“It sounds like a common robber, and the forests here can hide many a thief. When will the moon rise tonight?”

“Just a little past midnight, sir. But you mustn’t track the thief down then! The thief is surely the Demon, and you will not survive such a fate!”

“I can handle myself. If I must be out all night to find this Demon, so be it. I’ve dealt with worse…”

The ronin slept in the early part of the night before waking up just before midnight. It was foggy, and he could barely see in front of his face, so he took a torch. The light was worth the attention it would draw to him.

The ronin found the place where the woodcutter’s body once laid. The ground was still darkened with blood, but his footprints still here. Using the torch, the ronin surveyed the entire area until he found a different set of prints: bare feet, headed back into the forest.

“This is the place to start. I must keep up my guard for any sound or motion…”

Though unseen in the darkness, the ancient, gnarled trees creaked and groaned at every breath of the wind. The air was stifling, thick with humidity. The torch fluttered fitfully, but there was no storm tonight, only fog. The moon would certainly rise with a clear view.

The footprints continued deeper into the woods, until the ronin reached an outcropping of large stones. Here he would make his stand, now that he could have the high ground. If the Demon resided nearby, neither of them would be able to hide. And this is exactly what the ronin wanted.

At last, the moon rose in the east, an ominous red. The ronin put out his torch, allowing the moon to illuminate the forest instead. Its light turned the murky forest into a blood bath, shadows dripping across the ground. The leaves and moss turned from black to brown, and the mud glistened. Still, he held his ground.

“Nothing has happened. Perhaps they are unaware that I am here…”

The ronin got down from the boulders and paced around them in a circle. He was about to light his torch again when he heard a stirring, not far off. As soon as he stopped walking, it too stopped.

The ronin gripped his sword, ready to unsheathe it at any moment. It was not as hard to see as he expected, but what concerned him the most was that nothing looked the way it did in the daylight. All the trees took fantastical, frightening forms, almost humanoid now. A breeze picked up, and the woods creaked, masking any sound of footsteps.

“Who goes there?!” the ronin shouted. He looked in all directions, the boulders directly behind him. He was not cornered, but he didn’t have a great view of what could approach from either side.

A blood-curdling, human scream came from his left, but distant. The ronin swung around to that direction, looking for any signs of movement. The breeze rose and fell, almost like the slow breaths of a slumbering creature.

“Coward! Face me!” the ronin fumed. The moon had turned orange in the sky now, and shapes were clearer. Shadows crawled about, but nothing significant.

A second scream, now behind him. The being was moving at astounding pace, trying to throw him off guard. This was an intelligent predator, one that enjoyed terrorizing its victims. The ronin gritted his teeth, wondering how to outwit such an opponent.

“ _Do not shift your eyes from side to side, Jin. Focus on one point. Then all others will reveal themselves to you._ ”

The ronin recalled the familiar voice. He took a deep breath and focused straight ahead, his courage unfaltering.

Instantly the forest was revealed. Every flicker of movement showed itself in his peripheral vision. And there in the darkness, a humanoid shadow was lurking, only 30 paces away. It was moving to his right towards the rocks, in order to climb them from the back. The ronin pretended not to see, and stayed fixed on the same spot.

As soon as the shadow slipped behind the rocks, the ronin dashed into the forest ahead of him and hid. He had a perfect view: a man crouching on all fours, clothed only in a towel, with a shredded blindfold over his eyes and a grotesque, bony mask on his face. He was tall and lanky, but seemed relatively healthy. The man was barefoot, allowing him to travel silently through the woods, and if not for the ronin’s trick, he certainly would have ambushed him from above. But the strange man could no longer see the ronin from atop these stones and looked around in confusion. It was time for a surprise.

 _Swish!_ A kunai flew through the air, and the man was hit in the chest. His skin was not impenetrable. The ronin jumped up from their spot and leaped onto the rocks to put equal grounding between them.

The wild man did not cry out in pain, and threw away the kunai. Instead, he turned his eyeless gaze to the ronin and unsheathed the sword at his side. Sparks flew, and it was immediately set aflame. The mask was clearly visible now, a malicious, broken grin.

“Where did you learn to light your blade on fire? Answer me!”

The only reply he got was a scream and a lunge forward.

The ronin deftly dodged the blade and got a swift strike on the man’s back. The man now howled in pain and anger and quickly counterattacked. They sparred for several moments when a flame latched onto the ronin’s coat and he made an escape off the rocks to put it out. The wild man screamed again and dived headlong at the ronin, the blade aimed for his chest.

But these were techniques the ronin knew all too well, for he had done them himself. The ronin rolled out of the way, and in a swift thrust was able to parry the fiery sword out of the wild man’s hand. It fell to the ground where it sizzled against the mud, and grew cold.

“Now it’s my turn,” the ronin yelled, and struck his blade against his own incendiary rock. The blade glowed orange with a new flame, even brighter than the wild man’s.

The wild man attempted to run, and perhaps would have gotten away had the ronin not thrown another kunai at him. It struck him straight in the kidney, and this brought him to his knees. He pulled out the kunai and rolled onto his back to see the ronin wielding the fiery blade high above his head.

This ronin wore a mask of his own the whole time.

“The Ghost!” the man finally cried out a true word.

“You murdered an innocent man in Otsuna, who are you?!”

“…”

“Will you not speak?!”

The wild man got to his knees, panting heavily. Streams of blood flowed from where he had been wounded. Clearly he was a skilled fighter, but he was not well in his mind. He contorted his neck to give the ronin an uneasy gaze.

“He wasn’t your only victim, was he? Was he?!”

The wild man began to laugh, a jeering cackle. The ronin gritted his teeth and tightened his grip on his blade.

“You must be a Mongol if you refuse to speak… you deserve to die like the others!”

The laughter stopped, but the wild man remained wordless. His breathing became heavier.

“Or perhaps you are one of the many who fell victim to this war… having lost everything, there was nothing more left for you but to add to the suffering in the name of vengeance... no matter who felt it.”

The forest became still, and the only sounds were the flames on the ronin’s sword, and the wild man’s shallow breathing.

“Will you not speak?! I shall rip that mask off your face!” the ronin advanced forward.

“No!” the man didn’t even flinch.

“… Who were you in life?”

“… _No one_ ,” the wild man whispered. In two words, all his humanity surged back into him. The ronin lowered his blade despondently.

It was a tone of voice he had heard all too often.

“What do you want then?”

“… Let me die… as I once lived…”

“… Is that all?”

The wild man bowed his head. He still had the bloody kunai in his hands but only stared at it. He had said all that he wanted.

The ronin lifted his blade, and mercifully stabbed him in the chest. He took the blindfold and mask off the corpse.

It was but an ordinary man.

The ronin returned to the widow at the break of dawn, mask in hand. She shook in fright at the sight of it.

“So the Demon was real! The mask _is_ real! Oh if only I could have my husband back!” the widow sobbed.

“I’m sorry. There is nothing more to be done except mourn his passing.”

“Was it taken care of? The creature that killed him?”

“It was a man, and I buried him. He and this mask will never trouble Otsuna again. Let everyone know that.”

“Then he got what he deserved!”

“Perhaps… perhaps not... take care,” he bowed and went on his way.

The ronin took the mask back with him to his hidden den outside Omi Monastery. It was definitely very old, but there was nothing cursed about it. It simply fell into the wrong hands, although how that happened he would never know for sure. Perhaps it could be a useful tool to frighten bandits and Mongols. Perhaps it represented something that the ronin never wished to cross, the line between being a protector, and a monster.

_Staring straight ahead_   
_The borders of our vision_   
_Shadows always lurk_


End file.
